


What is a promise but a glitter-coated lie?

by quintessentially_void



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Aborted Genocide Run, Angst, Attempted Murder, Child Abuse, Dad Sans, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lots and lots of therapy, Murder, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Therapy, eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-06 07:58:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6745849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quintessentially_void/pseuds/quintessentially_void
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chara and Frisk don't agree on many things, but one thing they do agree upon is that getting killed is no fun at all. </p><p>The world is so much prettier before you die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wishful Thinking on Everyone's Part

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song rec: [Sippy Cup – Melanie Martinez](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uGI4YDIVZSk) and [Regina Spektor – Hero](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DOQ3R3MNcv8)

“But do I haaaaave to?” Chara pouted, swinging their dad’s hand back and forth as they returned to his car. 

“It’s just for another couple of days, then you can both live here.” Their brother was busy checking out a sign for a new brand of car. 

“Wait– Does that mean we’ll be able to have chocolate _every day?!?_ ”

“Ohhh can we?”

“I’m not too sure how happy your dentist would be about that” their dad chuckled.

“Awww.” They chimed in unison. 

____

Sure as ever, their mother stood in the doorway of their house as the car pulled up. They pretended not to notice their father’s hesitation to exit the vehicle, and opted to carry their brother in instead of putting him back in the stroller; just for logistical reasons, of course. If they waited for him to open the door before moving, and then walked slightly behind him out of her line of sight, that was definitely just a coincidence. 

Blue eyes pierced down judgmentally at the mess of their hair as they slipped into the house before returning their father’s gaze.

“Michael.” 

“Haley.” 

She did not respond. Chara quickly slipped her brother onto the couch before returning to crouch near the front door to eavesdrop.

“–You know.. this whole thing is going to be a hell of a lot easier if you make some sort of effort to collaborate, here.”

“I don't think that will be necessary.”

“The case'll be settled tomorrow, Hal. It’s not like you’re not going to see them it’s just–“

“Just _what?_ ” she snapped.

He flinched back slightly, before quickly recovering with a sigh. Chara pretended not to notice. 

“They need a bit more stability in their lives. I mean– you do want what’s best for them, right?” 

“Of course I do. But unlike _you_ ,” she spat “I actually know what is best.” 

Upon hearing the front door slam shut, Chara jumped up from the spot they had been hiding and quickly scrambled back to the book they had left on the table. They thought they’d pulled off the spying mission quite well. They turned a page, smirking to themself at their stealth. They definitely weren’t jealous when they heard the car start up and begin to drive away. They'd get to leave, too, soon enough.

As their mother walked by, she picked up the book and replaced it in their hands right-side up.

…Oh.

____

Uncharacteristically, their mother came into their room to tuck them into bed. “Goodnight, sweetheart. Everything will be okay soon.” Immediately, they knew something was wrong. She was never this calm; not really. It was always put up as a front. 

They felt a hand gently push the hair out of their face. 

She smiled sadly, stroking their hair. “You’re both staying here.”

She then exited their room, closing their door, followed by the click indicating that it was locked. 

Chara jumped out of bed and quietly ran over to peak out of the keyhole to see her returning to her brother’s room again.

No

They scrambled into their drawer searching for the makeshift shim they had stored, and frantically picked at the lock with the bobby pins they had collected for this purpose.

No no no no no no no

The door opened with a soft click; their mother didn’t notice. They overheard her muffled voice talking in the same slimy tone she had used before: “oh, sweetie. if I can’t have you, no one can.” Their brother giggled softly at this, clearly happy to receive some sort of positive attention from her, not understanding the implications behind the words. 

No no no no no– They ran to the door of his room, just reaching the archway only to freeze in place at a loud bang. Their ears were ringing. 

For a moment they paused.

They tried to rationalize it.

Maybe she shot herself

Maybe it was a mistake

Maybe it was a nightmare

Maybe someone had broken in

…

Then they heard her crying. 

They bolted toward their room slamming the door shut before smashing their bare foot into the locked window. They ignored the glass shards as they squeezed through the small space, and landed in a chicken coop before sprinting up the mountain. They had to get away.

They vaguely felt the branches and twigs scratching at their arms and face, but the pain felt distant. They stumbled and tripped a lot, barely able to feel their limbs. They couldn’t see. They tripped, caught themselves on a willow tree, and kept running.

Was she even chasing them? Did she hear them leave? …Where were they going?

They fell.

____

They woke up to the feeling of moist rock pressing against their cheek; which, upon further inspection, was also sitting in a pool of blood. Was that _their_ blood?

They tried to push themselves up only to feel their arm completely give out. 

Oh. 

While they hadn’t been the best science student, they were fairly certain that human skeletons were meant to stay _inside_ the body. Their left arm disagreed.

They tried with the other arm– it seemed less broken, at least, and tried to get a better look of their surroundings. Where were they? Did she find them? **Was she here?** Their heart began to race and they tried to drag themselves away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away–

A noise coming from deeper within the cave startled them out of their trance; it sounded strangely like... Were they dead? 

“Mom! Mom, look! That’s them!” 

A white goat ran out of the darkness in front of them pulling the hand of… a lady goat? Okay, they were definitely hallucinating now; unless heaven turned people into goats. What a plot twist. Maybe Mrs Biscuit was here! She’d been a kind goat. They would have to ask about that.

They let themselves fall into a heap on the cold ground. They couldn’t move. Where were their legs? They tried to move them, but were unable to tell whether it resulted in any actual displacement. Why was this happening? 

What did she do? 

They felt a hand gently push the hair out of their face, and they wanted to vomit. 

“Just kill me” they croaked, before the world went dark.

____

They woke up staring at a ceiling of pale purple tiles. They couldn’t move. She must have taken them. She must have drugged them. Why did she kill him first? Why was he dead? Why was he dead? Why was he dead? Why was he dead? Why was he dead? Why was he dead? Why was he dead? Why was he dead? Why was he dead?

They tried to lift their arms only to have one remain completely still, and the other flop back onto their stomach, like when they had slept on it weirdly, except instead of pins and needles, it just felt like needles, and it was covered in bandages and didn’t look very much like an arm anymore.

They tried to move their legs and… nothing.

Everything hurt. They let out a quiet sob and gave up their second escape attempt, if they could even call it that, and resigned to whatever fate was to befall them. 

____

They awoke once more to the sound of a calm voice, asking someone to pass her… what? What was that? They blinked to clear their vision, which only partially worked, before they felt a sharp pain in their arm

“no please stop just stop stop stop stop” they tried to say, although all that came out was a wheezy groan.

“I am sorry, my child, it will hurt less soon.” came the voice again. If she was going to kill them, why didn’t she just do it already? They tried to speak again, and came closer to succeeding.

“Pardon?”

“…p-please just kill me”

Toriel felt her heart sink.

_____

She had spent the past several days organizing a search for the few remains of medical textbooks that had washed into the underground. She had first attempted to feed the child soup, but their injuries did not heal. She then immobilized them to prevent further injury, but beyond that, there was little she could do without knowing more.

“Strange” she thought as she flipped through. Humans seemed to contain several distinct systems– their core, their flesh, and the rigid bones that helped them keep their form.

For bones to heal, they had to be set in the correct position, and then kept immobilized in a natural position until they fused. The fact that the child had multiple injuries made the latter part difficult– she couldn’t put a sling around their shoulder, as it was also out of place, although the books said that should heal sooner.

The head seemed to be the most difficult part– she needed to reduce the swelling, quickly, as if left untreated it could result in irreversible damage to their mind. 

She heard a soft knock on the door to her office.

“Yes?” 

“Toriel, please, you must rest– you haven’t slept in days.” Asgore hadn’t fared much better, having spent the past few days balancing discussions with the royal guard and scientist, and aiding Toriel in her search.

“That child needs to be healed as soon as possible– have you seen their HP? They were down to three points this morning– and two by this afternoon. I must do this immediately.”

Asriel peaked his head into the room. Asgore noted his nauseated expression.  
“How were they, my son?”

“T-they, uh….” he unsuccessfully blinked back tears. “They asked to – to die again. Why do they keep… asking that? Isn’t dying like falling?”

Asgore paused, unsure of how to answer. “…Yes,”

“Why is she asking to fall then? She d-doesn’t h-have to. W-we can h-heal her, r-r-right?” His voice got quicker and shakier with every syllable as he stumbled over to cling to his father’s robes.

“We will.” 

____

Toriel had first healed their head– and the procedure went rather well. The child seemed to regain some consciousness, much to her joy. She was aware that this would be a painful process, but she was left completely unprepared for Chara’s first request upon awakening yet again.

“You are not going to die, my child.” she stated, hoping to comfort them. The words seemed to have the opposite effect. The child’s gaze remained focused on the ceiling, seeming to continually loop the edges of one of the tiles. 

“Then why did you kill him?” 

“I… I did not kill anyone. Was somebody else with you?”

“N-no– you killed him; you killed him– y o u k i l l…. “ they trailed off and began to silently weep, before eventually slipping back into unconsciousness.

As Toriel continued to heal the surrounding tissue, her hands shook. Who had hurt this child? Why had they fallen into the underground? She took a deep breath before continuing, healing the worst of the injuries before finally retreating to her room and collapsing next to Asgore. She fell into a restless sleep.

____

When Chara awoke again, they blinked– and discovered that their vision was once again… mostly clear. Wait, why had it been blurry again? They pushed themselves up, slipping out of the purple sh– They halted. _Their_ sheets were brown. The shirt they were wearing was patterned with light blue stripes, and was scratchy against their skin.

They gasped as they once again took in their surroundings and discovered they were in a small, windowless room in a bed across from another small one. Suddenly, they remembered what happened. Why they hurt all over. Why they were away from home. Why they had run in the first place. There was a door left slightly ajar.

They needed to get away.

They slipped out of bed, testing their legs, discovering that while there was a slight stabbing pain whenever they put weight onto their right knee or their left ankle, they could walk well enough. 

They pushed the door open to reveal the long corridor, and they ran.

Well, thad was the plan, anyway. 

They hobbled as quickly and as quietly as they could manage, which was approximately as effective as an elephant snail sneaking through a china shop, before collapsing on the floor with a shout and curling into a ball.

They felt a soft paw on their shoulder, and looked up to reveal.. the smaller goat monster again. 

“… Am I dead?” they asked, unable to process the fact that they were in a completely different space in completely different clothes talking to a goat. In bible study they did always describe angels rather strangely; maybe this one happened to look more like a goat. Did goats go to heaven? Was this heaven? Was it hell?

“U-uh, no?” They heard a timid voice say. 

They continued staring at the carpet. It was rather pretty. The light from the candles reflected on some of the particles. It was pretty. They slowly ran their hand over the texture. It was warm. 

“H-human?”

Oh, the goat had been talking. That was rude.

“H-hey…” they mumbled.

“You’re not dead.” 

“Then where am I?”

“You, uh... fell.”

“… Fell where?”

“…Into the underground. Where… uh… monsters live?” 

“…” 

It was gradually coming back to them in bits and pieces– they must have fallen into a hole while running. Why was there a hole leading to another fucking civilization in the middle of a forest? Who thought that was a good idea?? 

“Uh…okay. How did you heal me?”

“Magic!” Asriel said with a smile.

Okay, either goatpeople aged really differently from humans, or this was a very confused kid about to get a huge reality check. “Monsters and magic don’t exist.” They stated bluntly.

The goatchild frowned, not sure how to argue about their own existence. 

“Oh, good, you’re up!” An older voice called from behind them and they immediately stiffened. Of course the younger one would be nice… it was the older ones they had to worry about. 

They quickly tried to get up and tripped over their own feet once again, landing on their back and hitting their head with a hard thud. Well, at least the floor was carpeted.

“Oh dear! are you alright?” The goat’s face came into their field of vision. Yep. Still a goat.

“Why are you a goat?” They asked, feeling that this situation was too strange of a mixture of horror and hilarity to take seriously. 

“… I am Toriel, although I do suppose my variation of monster does resemble the goats you have on the surface, yes.” 

“If you’re not a goat, what are you?”

“I am the Queen of monsters.”

Was this lady out of her mind, too? Maybe that’s why they were nice. They still believed in monsters and magic. Their brother had still believed in monsters and magic. Maybe learning that those were fake ruined people’s niceness. Is that why they were so mean? 

“Do you believe in magic, too?” They blurted out.

“… Why, yes. That is how we are formed, and how I healed you.” They thought back to their memories before they awoke; and couldn’t really recall much other than “pain, blood, bone, pain, goats;” so her story made sense. Except that it didn’t. Because magic. 

“But magic doesn’t exist” they whined. 

Toriel decided upon a different approach. “…Would you like to see something?” she asked. For a moment, Chara was worried– what good could possibly come from an adult goat thing wielding supernatural abilities? Was she possessed? Was she the devil? 

Toriel simply opened her palm and created a firey glowing ball. Chara was shocked. Fire… was not supposed to appear out of thin air. What was igniting that thing? Was it still hot? They impulsively reached forward and touched the flame, only to jump back as it singed their fingertips.

“Oh, no, my child!” Toriel exclaimed as she vanished the fire ball. “Do be careful; fire magic behaves very much like combustion fire. Are you alright?”

Chara rubbed their hand gently, and noted that it was only slightly sore to the touch. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“What is your name?” Toriel asked.

“… I’m Chara."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	2. Don't Eat Buttercups

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chara's POV
> 
> Song rec: Grimes – Life In The Vivid Dream

It took a long time. But, gradually, you began to trust your goat family. You no longer hid every time you dropped something, and you began to hear Asriel’s voice as his own. As Toriel was scolding you and Asriel for staying up too late, you surprised yourself.

“Alright, off to bed, you two!” 

“But _mooooom_ ” You and Asriel said simultaneously. You froze as soon as the word had exited your mouth. Soon you found yourself in Toriel’s warm embrace, and were soon joined by Asriel. She wanted you. She loved you. Toriel was what a mother was supposed to be.

_______

As you cuddled up in your new bed hugging an old stuffed goat (that the rest of the royal family found quite strange), you realized that for once, you felt safe. You were loved and protected, and they weren’t going to hurt you.

Then you felt a stab of familiar guilt.

You were alive, and he was not.

You just happened to fall into a hole into a buried world.

Why were you here?

____

After the buttercup incident, you were visibly shaken. You hadn’t thought that flowers would have that negative of a reaction on a monster– they were _monsters_. Asriel hadn’t corrected you when you’d asked. 

Why did you end up hurting everything you loved? 

____

A human soul was needed to cross the barrier. They had never asked you for it. They were too kind. 

You knew what you had to do.

____

You could feel your throat blistering as you forced down another handful of the yellow flowers. Asriel carefully passed you another cup of tea, which you quickly downed, hoping to drown out the sensation. It only made the burning worse.

____

 

“WHY AREN’T YOU FIGHTING?” You screamed as Asriel merely stood still as the spears and bullets were shot in his direction. “MOVE!” He cradled your dead body gently and began to retreat.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING? THEY’RE RIGHT THERE. YOU CAN GET EVERYONE OUT. YOU CAN SAVE THEM!” 

Instead, he collapsed back through the barrier, stumbling through until he reached the end of the tunnel. You continued to scream as he collapsed, vaguely feeling your consciousness fading once more as his body, fueled by your soul, began to turn to dust. 

____

You woke up. 

You weren’t quite sure where you were until you figured out how to look through their eyes. Frisk. Who was Frisk? 

You tried to move and only succeeded in twitching their left pinky. Figures.

“Hi, I’m Flowey the Flower!” 

...

...

...

_Mom?_


	3. Logistics and confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frisk's POV
> 
> Song rec: Sia – Unstoppable

“Frisk… You came from this world, right?” You shuffled your feet awkwardly, unsure of how to respond. 

“So you must have a place to return to, do you not?”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. No. You couldn’t go back. You couldn’t. You couldn’t go back. You couldn’t. You couldn’t go back. You c–

You felt a gentle paw rest upon your shoulder. “Frisk?”

You turned to face ~~mom~~ the queen once more, startled out of your thoughts. She didn’t seem to be judging your delay. 

“What will you do now?” 

“I….” You weren’t sure how to respond. On the one hand, you absolutely did not want to return to your home. That was out of the question. On the other, there was no way you could get away with becoming the monster ambassador without your family noticing; and you were sure that He would try to get you back. 

“I don’t” You lied. 

“What?? Frisk, you really are a funny child. If you had said that earlier, none of this would have happened. It is a good thing that you took so long to change your mind” she said with a chuckle. “Well, I suppose, if you really do not have any other place to go–

You swallowed. 

–I will do my best to take care of you, for as long as you need. Alright?”

You tearfully nodded, before burying your face in her dress and clinging tightly. You could vaguely hear the voice at the back of your mind screaming at you to let go of her, that you couldn’t trust her; all your thoughts were flashing red. But you needed the comfort. 

Toriel seemed slightly shocked at the action, and for a second, you regretted it; but soon enough she wrapped her arms around you and held you to her chest, before placing you back down on the ground. 

“We should go find the others– and see how things are going.”

_____

Things, you discovered, seemed to be going… as well as could be expected for a mass relocation. Asgore was talking to some very alarmed farmers who had exited their homes only to see several of the monsters skipping through their garden. Being the gardener that he was, he scolded them and told them to be careful with the plants. He was in the process of explaining what had happened; and they all seemed too stunned to be absorbing any of the information, instead focusing on the antlers on his head and his sheer size.

You pushed through and jogged up to them, and introduced yourself. 

_____

After seeing ~~their dad~~ Asgore calmly talking to humans, explaining that the monsters meant them no harm, Chara felt nauseous. They wished that ghosts could puke.

Frisk began to unexplainably feel nauseated and munched on a few crackers. They helped.

_____

Mt Ebott was fairly unpopulated as far as mountains go, and so there was a decent amount of space available for monsters to build their houses.

Members of the guard had quickly taken to removing the trees from several areas, and with the help of magic and hard work, turned those same trees into several open-style houses, many with multiple floors. They would be crowded for now, they noted, but soon more permanent residences could be set up, as more monsters moved out, many waiting for the world to be more hospitable before leaving the comforts of their own homes. 

As it was, there was a relatively large cabin for members of the guard, another for Undyne, Alphys, Mettaton, and Napstablook; a third for Asgore, designed so he could have meetings there, if necessary; and a final one that housed you, Toriel, Sans, and Papyrus. There were two bedrooms– temporarily designated as one for the brothers, one for you and Toriel.

As soon as your head hit the pillow, you fell fast asleep, exhausted from the ordeal. 

You woke up sometime around 4am, having fallen asleep just past 7; and stared out the window. They had not yet been able to install proper lights, so your cabin currently had one lamp, a spiderman flashlight, and several candles available. 

“Hey,” you thought. “Are you there?” 

_“Good morning to you too, dork.”_

You chuckled to yourself. “How are you doing?”

 _“I– …_ you could feel their thoughts snag on the image of ~~their mom~~ _TORIEL_ sleeping across from them and felt a familiar flash of red _– I’m okay. Kind of starving though– you haven’t eaten in like, 10 years. You should go get some chocolate.”_

“ I can’t just have chocolate for breakfast!” you mumbled as you quietly tip toed out of your room. 

There wasn’t much set up yet. Fortunately, though, Toriel had brought up a basket of her baked goods, although they were growing rather stale. Monster food didn’t age like human food– it didn’t get rotten or start growing anything, but it did tend to lose its flavour and potency over time. 

You picked up what looked like some variation of a butter tart, and munched on it while sitting on the floor, the room illuminated by the sunrise that was just beginning to peak through the trees.

_“Okay, I like to avoid my problems as much as the next kid who prefers mountain-cliff-death to going home; but you have to go tell them now.”_

You cringed; not expecting them to put it so bluntly and slowly backed yourself into a wall.

 _“Hey, hey, chill– Frisk.. Really.. Seriously please chill you’re not breathing and it’s kind of getting unpleasa–"_ Frisk inhaled sharply _"–nt, Whoey. Thank you for that. Now go tell them before the police tell tell them first when they bring you back. Trust me, it’s not fun.”_

You grimaced at the visual; and shook your head as you got up from the unfinished floor, and noticed that your feet were completely covered in dirt. You attempted to brush it off, but only succeeded on smearing it up your shins, and eventually gave up, when Papyrus burst out of his room.

“HUMAN! YOU ARE AWAKE”

You winced at the volume and started to subconsciously cover your ears– before stopping to avoid offending him. Chara tried to drown out some of the volume by humming, annoyed that you couldn’t muffle the noise; but unfortunately, that didn’t work when you were tucked into the back of someone else’s mind.

“Yeah… mom is still sleeping though; can you maybe keep your voice down?

“OF COURSE. … HUMAN, YOU SEEM DISTRESSED” 

You didn’t think you had been that obvious.

“IS SOMETHING WRONG?”

You anxiously looked toward the door, before resuming staring at the floor.  
“YOU SEEMED LIKE THIS YESTERDAY AS WELL– EVERY TIME A NEW GROUP OF HUMANS SHOWED UP. ARE YOU WORRIED ABOUT MEETING NEW ONES? I SOMETIMES GET NERVOUS ABOUT THAT TOO, BUT AS THE GREAT PAPYRUS, MY INTRODUCTIONS SEEM TO REMOVE ALL ISSUES SURROUNDING THAT. YOU SHOULD MAKE ONE!”

“Uh… no;” you mumbled. “That’s not.. quite it”

“OH….ARE YOU WORRIED ABOUT MEETING A SPECIFIC ONE?"

You froze. Unbeknownst to you, Both Sans and Toriel had awoken at the sound of your conversation, and were paused at the doorways to their respective rooms. 

_“FRISK!!! Tell them tell them tell them tell them tell them tell them te–_

“ALRIGHT!” you shouted, before glancing back at the 3 pairs of eyes (or, one pair of eyes, and two pairs of eye sockets) now turned toward you in confusion. You coughed

“I… I’m sorry.” You paused, trying to figure out how to explain what exactly you had here and why you left without actually explaining what exactly you had here or why you left.

“I … do have family..?”

“OH” 

You began tracing a circle in the dirt on the ground with your foot. 

“…kid?”

You mumbled; looking down and wrapping your arms around yourself. 

“WOULD YOU LIKE A HUG? SOMETIMES THEY HELP WITH BEING SCARED” 

You nodded, and within seconds you were wrapped in a hug of skeletal arms, face pressed into Papyrus’s spaceship pyjama shirt. It was.. much more comfortable than it looked, actually. That was definitely not the response you expected; nor who you expected it from.

“THEN WE SHALL PROTECT YOU” he announced. 

“My child.. why did you not say something?” Toriel said, eyes laced with a mixture of love, pity, and guilt.

 _“Because you didn’t do SHIT when Frisk tried to call you last time”_ Chara growled. Your vision flooded with red momentarily before their anger faded back.

“I was scared that you would send me back– I–I– I... they won’t let me leave I can’t be here I shouldn’t be here I should have just– 

Chara cut you off, instead choosing to squish your head further into Papyrus’s shoulder. Sans hadn’t noticed the change. Good.

_____

When you finally managed to calm down, you became aware of Sans talking (surprisingly calmly) on the phone with… who? It piqued your curiosity so you slowly turned your head toward him, which, unfortunately, got his attention.

“Hey.. uh.. kid. I was talking with a human avocado or whatever to see how we can go about keeping you here. And safe. She says it would be best if we met with her soon– say.. this afternoon? Before anything happens.” 

You simply nodded, and resumed your position curled up in the younger skeleton’s arms. It was one of the few places both you and Chara agreed was peaceful. The others being dead, and being alone. Neither of you would allow the other to die, and since you both shared the same head, you could never really be alone.

Eventually, you had to go get ready. You had managed to acquire some sort of clothing other than the sweater and shorts, which were honestly filthy at this point. You did, unfortunately, have to go down to the nearby village inn to use a shower, though.

_____

The cab ride to the office was probably the most confusing moment of the driver’s life, as their passengers included a child, a small skeleton, and a 7-foot goatlady. Whatever was left of his hesitation was dismissed when Toriel tipped him with a large sum of gold as she exited, bumping her head on the car roof in the process. The gold would easily cover the scratch, so he drove off without complaint.

_____

“Oh, hello! You must be Mr. Skeleton? And …. Frisk? And… 

“Hello. I am Toriel.”

“Very well, nice to meet all of you! Let’s have a seat.”

The office was decorated with a mishmash of what seemed to be discarded office supplies; there was a single seater couch, two unmatched wooden chairs, and a fold-up metal one, which the lawyer took for herself. 

“Hello. My name is Alia Murphy, but you can just call me Alia. I heard about the whole situation with the– uh, monster migration. It’s so fascinating! How many kinds of you are there? How are you–

“I appreciate your enthusiasm but I think we should probably address the issue.” Sans butted in.

“Y-yes, you’re right, sir. May I ask for a bit of background information on the two of you?

Chara noted that throughout the entire day, everyone failed to mention the 6 other dead children. 

That was probably a smart decision. 


	4. How many times can you put a broken soul back together before something doesn't fit?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara learns that things had changed quite a bit in the decades since they'd been gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song rec: [Grimes – Pin](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=peu_4s75KDA%0A%20) and [Halsey – Control](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=so8V5dAli-Q)  
> Chara's POV.

You stared down at the crumpled, charred remains of Frisk’s body, still processing what had just happened. Your mom was kneeling, staring down at them in shock. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe she didn’t know how low their HP had gotten. 

She picked them up and held them to her chest, tears snaking down her snout and into their hair. 

She couldn’t see you. 

______

You woke up when Frisk did, in the same room you had been in a few moments earlier. Maybe it had been a mistake; a fluke. Maybe you had dreamt it. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

The second time, you knew that the fatal blow was coming, and you knew that Frisk did, too, but neither of you could do anything to stop it. 

You couldn’t understand why she was crying.

She was the one who killed them. 

She would have killed you.

______

The third time you begged and pleaded her to stop, telling her you were there and that you knew that fire magic hurt and that you didn’t want to know anymore. You tried to tell her that you would stay, tried use Frisk’s arms to grab onto her dress and hold on and tell her that you didn’t want to die again. Once had been enough. Twice, a burden. Three times, a curse. You only caused Frisk to stumble, colliding with several more of her attacks.

They sobbed as the remaining life they had left them.

Fire magic hurt. 

______

The fourth time Frisk finally managed to dodge well enough, and gradually, she slowed, until she finally ceased firing altogether. 

You could feel Frisk’s heart break as they heard her request. He clung to her tightly, willing her not to let go, not to shut them out. She stroked their hair gently as she bid them farewell. She smelled like butterscotch and love. 

The second the doors had shut behind them they tried to call her phone. 

She didn’t answer.

______

You could understand the moldsmals attacking you; they hardly knew what Frisk was other than “thing who just stepped on us.” You could understand members of the guard attacking you. It is what they had been instructed to do. None managed to seriously hurt Frisk, or seemed to be very enthusiastic about the task, easily being won over by their kindness. 

You could not understand why Papyrus kept attacking. 

Frisk kept trying to pacify him, attempting to lift his already gargantuan ego, but it didn’t work. Frisk was too nice to fight back. When they finally attempted at an insult, he continued interpreting it positively, but his attacks didn’t even begin to slow. We were being nice. We were trying to talk to him. Why was he still trying to kill us, then?

You briefly wondered when you and Frisk had become an “Us”, or if they were even aware of your presence yet.

2 HP.

Frisk was having trouble standing, but they expertly covered it up, managing to stay tall, keeping a blank facial expression. You didn't have to wonder how they'd acquired that skill. When the battle finally ended, you sighed in relief as he began to instruct Frisk on how to exit the underground, and Frisk listened keenly to every word, happy to have acquired a new friend. 

“…ANYTHING CAN ENTER THROUGH IT, BUT NOTHING CAN EXIT... EXCEPT SOMEONE WITH A POWERFUL SOUL. LIKE YOU!!! THAT'S WHY THE KING WANT TO ACQUIRE A HUMAN.” You blanched. “HE IS... WELL...”

 _A child murderer?_ You thought to yourself. 

“HE'S A BIG FUZZY PUSHOVER!!! EVERYBODY LOVES THAT GUY.”

__________

You were really tired of being skewered. Frisk was even more tired than you. 

They had just woken up back at their save point again, shaky fingers fumbling to open their phone and call ~~your mom~~ Toriel again. You didn’t understand. She had always come to protect you. She knew that the royal guard wanted Frisk. She knew that dad wanted a soul. Why wouldn’t she help them? 

_Because she never cared._

______

Your lungs were burning, your legs ached, and you could still feel the phantom pain of dozens of spears lodged in your body as Frisk kept running. Just as they were about to collapse, you heard a clang of metal on the bridge behind you. 

Frisk turned around, only to see Undyne passed out on the ground, essentially roasting in the suit. Hehe. Roasted fish.

They spotted a nearby water filter (why on earth was there a water filter in the middle of Hotland??) and before taking any for themselves, splashed it on Undyne’s face. They took a step back as she staggered to her feet, and for a moment you were worried you were going to have to fight her again, but instead, she turned around and left. 

Only then did frisk jog back to the filter, splashing water onto their own face and grubby hands and quenching their thirst. You would have just kept it for yourself. 

_______

Frisk's eyes were constantly watering now, as they crept carefully down the orange corridor. They knew they were almost out– but that goal was becoming less and less appealing as time went on. 

They saw Asgore.

You saw the coffins.

You didn’t want to get any closer. For the first time, you saw the opportunity and took it. 

You reset. 

_______

Frisk knew that you were there, now. 

You couldn’t quite speak to them yet, but you could somewhat communicate in flashes of colours, images, and feelings that you hoped were comforting. Mom only killed you once, this time. You still had 10 HP when you ended the battle with Papyrus. Undyne only killed you four times. Sans congratulated you on not dying. You laughed.

You reached ~~your dad~~ Asgore.

His trident plunged through Frisk's chest.  
Their soul shattered.

They were coughing up blood.  
Their soul shattered.

They were crying.  
Their soul shattered.

They begged him not to kill them.  
Their soul shattered.

They couldn’t breathe.  
Their soul shattered.

They tried to crawl away.  
Their soul shattered.

They asked you to help them.

You reset. 

_______

This time, when you woke up staring at the buttercups surrounding you, you could move your fingers. Testingly, you sat up, and stretched their arms out in front of you.

You could feel them quietly crouched at the back of your mind, radiating purple and blue and sorrow and pain. You could still feel the holes the trident had left, and tried to shake it off, rubbing your stomach. You only partially succeeded. The hunger pangs certainly didn’t help. 

You gently ran your hand over the scars that littered their wrists, and memories that were not your own ghosted through your field of vision. You felt dizzy.

You clenched ~~their~~ your fist. 

They had been hurt enough. 

_______

The first froggit jumped out at you.

You killed it with one blow.

It was easy.

_______

You stared at the dust that covered your shoes. You knelt down, gripping her purple tunic in your hands. You took in a shaky breath. Her dust coated your throat. You could taste it. You puked up the pie Frisk had insisted you eat. 

You never wanted to taste butterscotch again. 

The guilt that coursed through you was nearly unbearable. Frisk couldn’t handle it. They tried to move their hands and you stepped back, letting them resume control of their body, until you noticed what they were doing. 

You tossed the knife back as if it would burn you and grasped at the jagged gash that now marred their forearm. 

You swore and frantically wrapped their bandage around it before they could do any more damage to themselves. Gradually, the crushing wave of purple cleared from your vision, and you began to breathe normally. 

_“I’m sorry”_ you heard their voice faintly whisper.

You felt tears prick at their eyes and begin to trickle down. You had never been very good at words or comfort. You held both of their wrists tightly, hoping the pressure would help the urge. You wanted to claw off the feeling of her clinging to their skin, but after seeing Frisk’s own penchant for self-injurious behaviour, you opted against it.

The few drops of their blood that had spilled clotted in the dust.

______

Sans noticed the change the moment you stepped out of the ruins. As you continued to march forward without pause, he appeared to be more and more distressed. You thought it was fairly simple. 

Don’t stab me, and I don’t stab you. 

______

*Papyrus is sparing you.

Red hot anger sparked through you.

How dare he?

He had no qualms about attacking you when you had done nothing but be kind, play along, and feed his sickeningly grandiose ego. Was he really that stupid? Did he think you wouldn’t see through that? 

Your rage drowned out the voice at the back of your head that screamed for you to stop. You watched his head topple to the ground, before his entire body turned to dust. Frisk’s hands were shaking.

______

Undyne, you found out, was no easier to deal with if you did play it her way. 

You were glad that you hadn't killed Monster Kid, though. Killing children had never been a life goal of yours; you'd hoped that trait didn't run in the family. 

You'd never seen a monster melt before.

______

Frisk’s HP had drained to zero for what was possibly the 86th? 87th? time. You’d lost count. They were barely responsive to any mental prompting, now, and had been for the past twenty or so saves. 

When Sans offered the hug plea deal, the oh-so-obviously fake hug-plea deal, a mockery of your "hug of acceptance", Frisk nudged you forward.

“Are you serious?” you muttered

 _“I don’t want to fight him anymore. Please.”_ Well, it was their body. 

“Then you do it.” You it back and braced for impact. 

“I’m sorry” they sobbed into the skeleton’s jacket, clutching tightly as the bones slammed through them. You thought you saw a look of confused recognition on Sans’ face. He placed Frisk’s body back on the ground, and pulled a familiar red scarf out of his pocket, before sitting down on the and running his hands over the fabric. 

As time went on, you watched him pace back and forth while muttering to himself in a language that seemed vaguely familiar. He became more and more frantic, and eventually walked over to Frisk’s body and kicked it.

 **“just _do it_ already.”** Blood splattered the tiles, but Frisk still didn’t load their save. 

You didn’t know how skeleton monster anatomy worked. So much of their bodies consisted of empty space. Food dissolved sometime between being chewed and entering their throat. Sans didn’t even unclench his jaw, and you weren’t sure if he could. Maybe that's why he drank ketchup from the bottle. 

You didn’t know how skeletons could cry.

About an hour later, you and Sans were still staring at Frisk’s unresponsive body, when their leg twitched. 

Sans responded by flashing his arm and having another 10 5-foot bones plunge out of the ground. You barely flinched as you felt them tear through your body. Talk about overkill.

Frisk’s soul shattered.  
______

You shakily picked yourself up off of the floor and walked over to Sans once more. He cracked his neck. And his shoulders. And his back. And each knuckle in his hands. 

God he was annoying.

_“He’s stalling”_

“What?” You asked out loud, never quite having mastered to the silent “talking to the voice in your head” routine.

_“I think we should reset. I... I miss Toriel and Papyrus and... I don't want to do this anymore.”_

“…You’re serious? You’re really serious right now??? They _**killed**_ you. They _**all**_ killed you.” You couldn't understand. They had been hurt by humans as much as you. They had been hurt by monsters as much as you. Why did they forgive them? How could they forgive _any_ of them?

“…Who are you talking to?” Sans asked, narrowing his sockets in suspicion.

Oh. Shit. Quick. Think of something. 

“Your mom.” You blurted.

“…Uh … I don’t have one, but if I did she would probably be sprinkled all throughout the underground by now the way you’re going .”

“I never killed anyone who didn’t try to kill me.” You scoffed. 

“ **b u l l s h i t.** ” You jumped out of the way of the dozen blasters that fired in your direction. “Pap never even tried to **attack** you.” 

“Well he had no problem impaling _Frisk_ when they had been _nice_ ” You took the opportunity to slice at him again, but, as usual, he slipped out of the way. 

“heh….” He panted. “So there are two of you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, there’s two of you.”

“well, I mean, there’s been seven. You should check out the coffins over there. Colour-coded and everything.” Another line of bones headed your way, but you easily sidestepped most of them, the last one grazing your ankle as you skipped by.

“He was never going to kill you. Hell, I don’t think he even knew you had to die for the king to get your soul." You paused. 

"You could just… like… see that for yourself, you know." His voice wavered. 

"Reset?”

 _"I think he's right"_ Frisk murmered. You couldn't believe their naïveté sometimes. But, you could hear the desperation creeping into Sans's voice, and looked down at the dust-covered knife in your hands, before sighing, and letting it clatter to the floor.

"Fine. Just tell him what a date is before he makes a fool of himself this time. “

__________

Everyone’s attacks became predictable after a while, and Frisk had made it to Papyrus without dying once. They had played along with each and every (failed) puzzle, too.

Upon Chara’s request, Frisk hadn’t take any of ~~mom’s~~ Toriel’s pie, though, and as a consequence of that, their HP was draining fast, and the wave of bones in front of them didn’t seem close to abating. 

1 HP.

They winced and you braced for impact, only to feel... nothing. They kept their eyes screwed shut until they felt a pair of skeletal arms wrap around them and carry them to... a shed?

Papyrus placed their frail form onto a blanket and began to heal the worst of their wounds, muttering about humans being so much more messy than monsters. You had to agree with that one. He left them a bowl of what could probably have been mistaken for spaghetti, and left you to rest.

Frisk stared wide-eyed at the wooden ceiling, dazed.

“He wasn’t going to kill us” 

_“…Yeah;”_ you replied, dumbstruck, feeling a sickening guilt snake through your being. Frisk seemed to feel it too, as they began to slowly rock back and forth. After a while, you had calmed, and you prompted them to stand up.

The door was unlocked.

______

In the sort of morbid curiosity that only having been murdered hundreds of times provides, you both decided to test whether Papyrus sparing you was a fluke. Frisk was purposefully clumsy, and allowed themself to be hit with several of the bones in a row. Fuck, that hurt. They still had 5HP; not even close to dying yet. But instead of even pretending to dodge the rest of them, Frisk let themselves fall to their knees in the cold snow and flopped onto their side. 

They were so, so tired.

Papyrus paused. 

“HUMAN?”

“…” 

“HUMAN NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO SNOOZE. IS MY LAZY BROTHER RUBBING OFF ON YOU?”

The snow was blinding, and the damp fabric of their socks clinging to you felt like sandpaper, and you both really just wanted to stop everything and go home. The only problem being that ~~your mom~~ Toriel continued to ignore your phone calls, keep the door locked, and had murdered you a dozen times, Frisk’s dad would do the same if they did get out, and ...well, Asgore. Despite having two sets of alive parents between you, you had nowhere to go. 

Frisk sniffled and hid their face in their sweater. You appreciated the shade.

“Idonwannafightnymore” they mumbled.

Papyrus glanced nervously back and forth before walking up to the shivering mess of a child and picking them up.

“WELL, I CAN’T FIGHT YOU IF YOU’RE NOT GETTING UP.” 

______

You rolled off of the blanket, stood up, and walked Frisk's body out of the door of the shed for the second time. They didn't stop you, so you figured you were going in the right direction. 

When you saw a blue jacket out of the corner of your eye, you nearly jumped out of Frisk’s skin. You wondered if you _could_ actually do that, since it wasn’t yours to begin with.

“Uh.. kid?” 

“My socks are wet.” You responded, as though that was the answer to his unasked question. He continued to wait, so it definitely wasn’t. 

“… I don’t want to fight him again.” Or you. “But if I try to cross the bridge again he will want to fight me.” 

“So… you walked all the way back here?”

You took a moment to look at your location, and with a start realized you had managed to return to the ruin doors, and you stumbled back in the snow. No. You couldn’t be here. She would kill you. She would kill you. She would kill you. You trusted her and she would _kill_ you.

Frisk slipped back into control and came up with the most plausible answer, “…I didn’t know what else to do.” 

______

Sans had managed to convince his brother that he should just give you the directions early. 

Oh. 

That was new. 

_____

Frisk befriended Undyne. 

You didn't understand it.

Hours prior she had wanted them dead, and now she was fine with being _""besties""_.  
____

When you discovered that your goat brother was trying to kill you, too, you weren’t even surprised anymore. It took so little for monsters to turn against you. He had no soul, he explained. 

At least he had an excuse.

____

As Frisk stepped into the chilly morning air, they shivered; not just from the cold. 

When they buried their face in ~~your mom's~~ Toriel’s neck, you flinched back, desperately trying to get control of their body again. You couldn’t touch her.

_Frisk she's going to kill you please let go get off please let go please just let go you don't need this you don't need her please just let go_

Frisk didn’t listen.


	5. A pen isn't a good weapon if you wield it as a sword

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song rec: [Sia – Big Girls Cry](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HaONHdLF55o)

It turned out there had already been a file open for Frisk, as several neighbours had submitted complaints. The police hadn’t actually bothered to check it out before Frisk’s disappearance, though. They also didn’t bother making the connection between child-abuse claims and missing-child claims, but what was new there? 

You tapped a rhythmic pattern on the arm of the chair vaguely listening to Sans’s deep voice and with the lawyer’s high-pitch one occasionally interspersed with sugar-coated knives as they discussed the intricacies of having a skeleton and a goat who had never met face to face prior to yesterday somehow both be in charge of looking after a child they had both never seen before last week. 

Suddenly there was a silence, the tapping stopped, and you noticed the three pairs of eyes glued on Frisk. Oh, Frisk had been trying to get your attention too. 

Oops.

You slipped back into your headspace and they mumbled an answer something along the lines of not wanting to go home. 

You didn't either.

_____________

The car ride home was significantly more awkward. Frisk was silent and despite Sans's best efforts at lightening the situation with puns, the mood remained somber. Toriel joined in, and you grumbled and tried to prompt Frisk to engage in conversation but they remained virtually immobile. 

_"...Frisk?"_

"Yeah," they thought.

_"Are you okay?"_

"Yeah," they thought, but the word was laced with purple and surprisingly a flash of red.

_"Holy shit– are you angry? Like, actually angry?_

"Shut up."

_"Okay come on you've literally been impaled a dozen times in a row and I didn't even see that then so let me appreciate the novelty. Oh gee it's like we're bonding!"_

"I said SHUT UP" They thought, clamping their hands over their ears.

 _"...alright, then."_ That was... odd. 

___________ 

Frisk was having a bad night.

Dreams managed to meld memories of their birth father and the underground and blood and dust it was all around a mess. You were awake, and felt dizzy as the dream played out in front of you. You decided you'd seen enough and dragged yourself out of their nightmare or whatever it was and stared at the ceiling.

They suddenly jumped up with a shout, falling out of bed, and you were surprised that ~~your mom~~ Toriel stayed asleep.

The flood of anger and guilt was overpowering. Their thoughts were laced with couldn't be here shouldn't be here shouldn't have survived the fall shouldn't feel this hurt shouldn't be angry shouldn't be angry–

Frisk got to their feet and stumbled to the kitchen, breathing erratically, shaky hands opening drawers until they found what they were looking for.

You didn’t have it in you to stop them, and you weren't sure you could have if you tried.

___________

You weren't sure how much time had passed as they sat on the wooden floor. When they could finally breathe and think and see straight, you coaxed them up to put some disinfectant on the new marks and cover them up with one of the bandages in the first-aid kit. Eventually they stood, mechanically taking care of the wounds, and crawled back into bed. They didn't sleep.

That morning, ~~your mom~~ Toriel happened to decide to wash your sweater. You also happened to have dirtied your only long-sleeved shirt the day before, when Papyrus's cooking technique inevitably resulted in a pointillist painting of a battlefield on your clothes.

Frisk remained hidden under the covers, neither of you knowing quite what to do.

You could pretend that they were scratches you’d already gotten in the underground, but Toriel had already healed the worst of those, and would recognize that these were new. To add to that, she had seen the scars that were already there, so she was probably on alert for new ones. Maybe you could pass them off as injuries gotten while running around yesterday, but they were too neat– too methodical to be accidental. 

Eventually, hunger forced them out of bed, and you hope that maybe, just maybe, everyone would just pass off the new red lines as a weird human thing and move on. 

You munched on cereal, yawning. You close your eyes for a second, and when you open them you’re in the middle of the hallway with a fireball for an eye glaring at you. You internally sighed in annoyance. Your cereal was going to get soggy.

“Frisk?"

They stayed silent. You answered for them.

"Umm.. yeah?"

"You okay there bud?"

Frisk didn't know how to answer. They didn't want him to worry, they didn't want him to know, they didn't want him to say anything to Toriel, they didn't want to deal with this at 7am on a Sunday the day after spending an entire day discussing their life story. 

“…yeah” Frisk responded.

“Kid... I can see your arms. Those were not there yesterday. What did they _do_? Can they still– are they still– are they with you?"

You rolled your eyes and nearly caused Frisk to do the same. Of _course_ he would blame you.

You forced them to inhale since they had once again lost the ability and they crumpled back into the wall before sliding down, hiding their head in their arms (or their arms in their head?) "I don't want to talk about it," they finally uttered.

"Is something the matter?" Came Toriel's soft voice. You gagged.

"Yeah... uh. I think you missed a scratch or two." Sans answered while scratching his skull. She didn't believe that for a second, but was too polite to ask you for clarification yet.

_____________

Frisk was the epitome of non-confrontationalism, so it was no surprise that they spent the rest of the day avoiding any potential alone-time with the skeletons. 

Unfortunately, this left them tagging after ~~your mom~~ Toriel again, as they shopped for groceries, sorted out paperwork, and continued to check up on Frisk’s childcare case. They followed her around as she met with more monsters to see how the move was going. They sat next to her at the dinner table.

It made you feel sick, but they felt a bit better, so you didn't complain.

Fortunately, their sweater was dry by the time you came home, and they slipped it on. 

________________

"FRISK! SANS INSISTS THAT YOU COME LOOK AT THE STARS. HE BROUGHT UP HIS TELESCOPE AND EVERYTHING! THERE'S SO MANY OF THEM!!"

You didn't know how to say no to that offer, so you carefully slipped into Frisk's body and skipped up the hill holding the skeleton's gloved hand, despite Frisk's protests. They could have regained control of their body within a couple of minutes had they chose to, but by then you were already out the door, so there wouldn't have been much point. 

True to his word, Sans had set up a telescope. You ran over excitedly and immediately stuck your eye to the lens, and he chuckled. "Someone's enthusiastic about space." That someone happened to be not-Frisk, but you decided to wait to have that conversation. You didn't want to spoil it.

Papyrus was lying on the ground, transfixed on the sheer number of lights glittering in the sky. Eventually you, too, decided you'd had enough of the closeups and flopped down beside him. If he had noticed your arms, he had failed to mention it. You were grateful. 

Unfortunately, that calm could only last so long. 

"Kid?" The shorter skeleton sat to your left, so you were now functionally trapped in a skeleton sandwich if you did decide to run away, unless you wanted to summersault off of a cliff, which did look fairly tempting, if you were being honest.

"Mhm?" You answered, hoping you sounded vaguely Frisk-like. 

"Uh.. My approach earlier might not have been the best." _Tell me about it._ "... How are you doing?" 

Frisk shrugged. "'v been okay."

He sighed. "People who are 'okay' don't tend to show up with scratched up arms. Did anything.. happen?" 

Frisk played with the sleeves of their sweater. "No. I'm okay." They responded robotically. 

"ARE YOU STILL WORRIED ABOUT HIM FINDING YOU?"

Frisk paused, before nodding once, continuing to play with a loose thread. It was always strange to you how with one little string you could tug and tug and unravel the whole thing. People were the same way, it seemed. Frisk stopped playing with the thread. 

"YOU SHOULD NOT BE SCARED. I DO BELIEVE THAT TORIEL MENTIONED THAT THINGS WERE GOING WELL. I DO NOT KNOW WHICH 'THINGS' IN PARTICULAR, BUT I ASSUME IT MEANS THAT YOU WILL BE STAYING HERE."

Frisk shuffled over to lean on the taller skeleton. "What if he doesn't want me to?" 

"Tough luck for him, then. We've gotcha."

____________

Unfortunately, Frisk's dad _had_ actually bothered to file a missing person’s report a few days after their disappearance, which complicated things a bit, as the police station was (apparently) required to notify him. You, Sans, and Toriel were advised to go down to the station to avoid 'complications'.

Frisk kicked their legs back and forth in the metal chair as Toriel and an officer you couldn't remember the name of once again discussed them as if they weren't in the room. The office had a window into the station, and you watched the flurry of people wander about like ants. There were too many. The clock ticked loudly as the time went by and you tried to focus on the noise instead. 

Eventually, they wanted to question Frisk alone. You carried their legs behind yet another stiffly smiling lady and hoped you'd be able to get ice cream soon. 

There were many things you considered as possibilities in this situation. For one, the police would notify Frisk's father that they had been found. It was possible that they would tell him where Frisk was staying. It was possible that he would yell and grab their arm and drag them home. It was possible he would put on the 'oh, look at the kid I have to deal with, of course I'm not a bad parent' act, playing nice until they arrived there before unleashing hell. 

You did not consider the possibility of him being stupid enough to attack Frisk in the middle of a police station. 

Frisk heard the door of the station burst open and He stormed in. They cowered back, stumbling over their feet before falling to the ground and scurrying back until they hit a desk. A new flood of information entered your consciousness and you struggled to process it. It turned out that Frisk's mom, like yours, had been deemed unfit to look after them or herself. Unlike yours, she actually gave a shit; but unfortunately being forcibly institutionalized and parenting tend not to go hand in hand too well. Somehow, the court had assumed that leaving this incompetent fetid mess of a father in charge of them was the better option. 

They tried to hide. 

They tried to run. 

You shoved them into the back of their own head and jumped up, picking up a discarded pen from the desk and clicking it open.

It took the officer approximately 10 seconds to figure out that you were no longer tailing her. It took him approximately 2 seconds to spot you.

“Where the fuck were you?” his voice boomed. Frisk attempted to flinch back causing you to jolt. 

“Sir–please, I think it would be best if you just sat do-ouf!” He shoved the tiny officer out of the way and continued to make his way toward you.

"Don't touch me." you growled and gripped the pen tighter in your hand. You were vaguely aware that it would do little damage to him, but he wasn’t expecting it from Frisk. You could always go for his eyes.

You saw his arm raise, and you lunged, but he easily deflected the stab attempt. Oops. 

Sans and Toriel burst in from the next room, having heard the commotion just as he backhanded you for ~daring~ to try to avoid being hit. Frisk's cheek began to swell, and they screamed. You giggled as their father saw Toriel. He scrambled back in confusion and terror as the 7-foot magical goat giant stomped in his direction. He dropped you. You landed in a giggling heap, pen still clutched in your hand as you staggered to your feet. Part of you was aware that laughter wasn't appropriate here, but you couldn't stop. 

Toriel and several officers worked to manhandle the trash bag into another room while Sans froze in place. He recognized you. The giggling fit slowed to occasional hiccups. Your cheeks were wet.

Sans didn’t move toward you until you had clicked the pen shut and dropped it back on the table. 

When Toriel came running back and wrapped you in her arms with a litter of apologies and empty promises of keeping Frisk safe you almost wished you hadn’t put it down. Her fur was suffocating. Frisk buried their face in her neck and you jumped out of their body with a hiss as they began to sob. Now she smelled like wet fur. Each strand was a needle pricking your skin, tearing it open. She was too warm. You were burning. She was too close.

Eventually you managed to get them to let go and you stumbled back, gasping for air.

You could feel dozens of pairs of eyes glued to you, now. Before any of them could react you had sprinted to the door.

Sans caught up to you in the parking lot. You barely stopped yourself from crashing into him, but he put his hands on your shoulders and spoke. What was he saying? You couldn't breathe. Frisk couldn't breathe. You couldn't see. Before you thought about it you had grabbed his arms and hissed “get us out of here.”

Sans glanced around, locating the security cameras in the parking lot, before they glowed blue momentarily, and you were gone. 

You were in the middle of the nearby woods, you weren't sure where, but it didn't matter. You couldn't believe this. After everything you still let yourself be hurt and still just _stood_ there as they hurt you and killed you and killed you and killed you

You shouted as you tore into an innocent tree, ripping off chunks of bark and bloodying your fists. You couldn't be hurt again you wouldn't be hurt again but you _would_ because you were helpless and you couldn't stop him and you couldn't stop her and if you'd been a better kid _he would have lived_ and he was dead and you were dead and they were dead and you were alive and you were alone and everyone was dead and it was all your fault.

You fell into a heap on the ground and buried your hands in your hair and screamed.

Gradually the screams turned into sobs which turned into sniffles and you felt your hands throbbing and remembered they weren't actually _your_ hands and glanced down. Your nails were practically destroyed and you couldn't really assess the rest of the damage since they were covered in blood entirely. You heard a cough.

“Welp… I guess that’s better than tearing through an entire civilization”

You paused, trying to figure out if you'd actually heard that.

"Are you serious?" 

" **Dead** serious." 

“Not the fucking time”

"Oh, but isn't it?"

You wanted to crush his stupid smile off of his face, but you knew you couldn't, and knew you didn't, so you settled for pulling up grass by the roots instead.

"So how does that work, then? You show up whenever you feel like, or does it have something to do with them?"

"I don't know. A mix of both, I guess."

"... And you're Chara?" You froze. How the fuck did he know that?

"You mentioned seven dead humans. There were only six coffins." Oh.

"Lucky number one at your service. _Actually_ lucky number one, since I was apparently the only human you decided was worth keeping alive instead of ripping apart out for dad's pretty soul collection. Wasn't that just the _luckiest?!_ The lucky number one who managed to fall into a hole into the underground, break every fucking bone in their body, and then get a second chance at a life with the royal family! The lucky number one who happened to be revived in Frisk for no apparent reason, so lucky chance number three! Then Frisk died, and pouf!" You tore at your hair. "Back, ready to face mom again. And again. _And again. And **again**. **And again. Isn't this just so.**_ " You grabbed a chunk of bark. " ** _fucking_** " You tore it off. " ** _lucky?!?!_** " You chucked it across the clearing, and it landed in a flock of sparrows. They scattered. 

Sans wasn't quite sure what to say to that. 

You stared at the birds that had resumed pecking. They stupidly gathered around the same place in the same stupid location knowing that the same danger was lurking nearby.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure Asgore didn't kill any of the others."

"Did you?" You turned to face him, eyes red around the edges from crying, left cheek swollen from the punch, skin littered with scratches form whatever _that_ was.

He paused. You waited.

"No. I can't say I wouldn't have, though." 

You couldn’t be mad at him. You had stolen everything. You had wanted to watch the world melt and disintegrate and watch every human and every monster turn to dust and ash and he knew he had been the only thing stopping you. You didn't know how to apologize for taking someone's world away. You didn't know how to apologize for giving it back. You settled for second best.

"I'm not going to hurt him again." 

His posture relaxed slightly. 

"I know." 

You leaned back, landing on a mossy bed.

"...How's Frisk doing?" You honestly weren't sure. Either they had remained silent during your outburst or you had drowned them out.

"Ask them." 

You let yourself float off. 

You were exhausted, anyways.

_______

Sans brought Frisk back using a shortcut, and it turned out that Papyrus was even more frantic at mothering than Toriel, dropping everything to bring you a bag of frozen peas for your cheek and bandages for your hands, seating you on a couch in a blanket cocoon the moment you stepped through the door. Toriel still had business to attend to, so you and Frisk were contentedly sat on a couch with the two skeletons, three mugs of hot chocolate, and a TV which had appeared between you appearing outside the front door and walking into the house. You let Frisk pick the movie. Sans and Papyrus had apparently decided that they needed an evening off of emotional-family-discussion-time, and kept the discussions strictly animated-warthog related.

You and Frisk woke up in a strangely uncomfortable position, and you stretched out trying to see why when you bonked your fist into a skull.

Papyrus lept up. "WHAT, WHAT IS THIS WHO IS ATTA– Oh, it is you. GOOD MORNING, Frisk!" 

"Hi" they mumbled. The sack of peas had thawed during the movie and you were now left holding a damp mushy bag of vegetables. Disgusting. Sans was still fast asleep, leaning on the opposite couch arm.

They checked the time and discovered that it was just past seven o'clock in the evening. "It's not the morning, though" they rubbed their eyes sleepily and cuddled further into the blankets.

"WHAT?? I DO NOT TAKE NAPS– HOW DID THIS HAPPEN??" He quickly jumped up and verified the time, before realizing that he had, in fact, napped, and that the world had not exploded as a result.

Frisk giggled and their stomach growled. 

"OH! IT APPEARS THAT IT IS TIME FOR EVENING BREAKFAST! I AM IN NEED OF A COOKING ASSISTANT. ARE YOU UP FOR THE TASK?" 

"Okay." Frisk smiled, actually, genuinely smiled. You internally cheered and left them to the cooking. You noticed that Papyrus took all of the chopping upon himself, leaving Frisk to stir the ingredients together. The end result was actually somewhat decent. 

When Frisk asked to sleep in Papyrus's bed instead of their own, he ruffled their hair, telling them that not wanting to sleep alone was perfectly reasonable for baby bones. Sans paused when he saw you both lying down fast asleep, but apparently decided that despite your appearance earlier in the day, you weren't a threat right now.

You both slept peacefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to stick the Papyrus mothering thing in the next chapter, but considering it's mothers day, it seemed fitting.
> 
> I don't know if I tried to squeeze too much into one chapter, but hey. 
> 
> Y'all signed up for the angst-mobile.


	6. If looks could kill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You once again came to the conclusion that humans were awful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full italic text things are mentally "said" but only heard by Frisk/Chara (whoever isn't piloting the body) 
> 
> Chara's POV still, but Frisk-Centric chapter.

Frisk woke up the next day feeling significantly better; their hands and cheek were both fully healed, and they had slept well knowing that they were on their way to being able to legally stay with their monster family. Papyrus also seemed to radiate an aura of calmness that warded off both of your nightmares.

They slipped on their slippers and skipped to set the table, mismatched napkins and cutlery and all. Sans ruffled their hair as he walked by, having begrudgingly been woken by his brother so he would actually eat something that wasn’t a condiment. You doubted that "Syrup with a side of pancakes" was what he was going for, though.

Frisk chowed down on their stack, which they topped with sliced bananas and blueberries. You wished they had chocolate syrup, but table would have to do. 

Just as they were finishing clearing up, the phone rang. Toriel scurried to get it.

“Hello? Yes, this is."

"..."

"Yes, they are;"

Gradually the activity in the room slowed to a halt as everyone began listening to the conversation.

"...Must it be so soon? I do believe that display was enough to make it evident that he is an unsuitable parent;" 

_"Tell me about it."_ Frisk's thoughts were only a mix of vibrant purple and piercing yellow that muddled together until they were a docile shade of grey.

"It does not matter if they had a pen in their hand **he did not have the right to attack _my child_ .”**. They will be present only for their required testimony, and then will be leaving. There is already a record of what they told you.” She sighed. “Very well.”

___

Frisk was terrified. More terrified than when they faced Toriel the third time, than when they faced Undyne for the twentieth, than when they faught Flowey.

The details were too blurry for you to read, so you couldn’t even take the stand for them. You knew what might help, though.

“Papyrus?” Chara mumbled.

“YES, HUMAN?” 

“I don't want to go alone. I… Could you ask people if they would want to come with me?” you internally cursed; that was _way_ more direct than Frisk would ever be. Sans noticed. He did not comment.

“CERTAINLY! WE SHALL PROVIDE THE UTTERMOST LEVEL OF EMOTIONAL SUPPORT. And I believe we shall be the most intimidating of friends. Nyeh.. Not to you, of course." Frisk smiled. You sighed.

Today was going to be a loooong day. 

___

Predictably, Papyrus invited every monster he could think of, all of which were mildly appalled by the notion that a child had to testify** 

Toriel, fortunately, noticed what had occurred, and sent out notices to most that there would not be enough space, but that they would appreciate their well-wishes regardless. The lineup of attendees wound up being Toriel, Sans, Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Mettaton, and Grillby. You didn’t ask why Grillby was kept on the registrar, but you weren’t complaining. At least there was one person there who had never tried to stab either of you. 

Just as the last few people walked into the courtroom, you heard a loud thud. 

“OW. I’m okay!!” Monster Kid rushed over. “Yo! I heard that Frisk needed help?”

 _Two_ people who hadn’t tried to stab you. Score! You felt a pang of guilt as you remembered that you had almost attacked– no, you _had_ attacked him. You tried to bury the thought hoping it wouldn't seep through– Frisk really didn't need to deal with _your_ guilt on top of everything. MK ended up taking a seat on Undyne’s lap.

Frisk avoided all eye contact, playing with the hem of their sweater. They tugged at the loose thread. 

___

During the questioning period, it became evident that the defence lawyer had only one goal in life, and that goal was to be a dick to traumatized kids. While he could have gotten away with verifying only the bare bones of the details, he insisted on verifying every single aspect of their case. It had already been ten minutes, and as they described how they ended up in their father's custody and what happened after, Frisk's fear and sadness and washed over you in waves of purple and blue. You tried your best to comfort them, but your rage kind of prevented that form being effective. 

Frisk's father continued to roll his eyes and occasionally glare back at them when they answered something he didn't approve of. You wanted to see his annoyed and empathy-deprived face ripped off and replaced with one that was more fitting and see every attack that had ever been launched in Frisk's direction directed toward him. You weren't the only one. 

Oh, if looks could kill, he wouldn’t have stood a chance.

Toriel's eyes blazed, as she stood looking as regal and merciless as humans portrayed monsters to be; 

Undyne grasped at the arm of her chair so strongly that it snapped. She subtly placed it back before resuming the glare war, which she was unquestionably winning. MK copied her expression, occasionally glancing back to make sure that was what he was supposed to do.

Alphys looked kind of like she wanted to throw up.

Mettaton had some sort of glare-stare-without-blinking-or-expression thing going on, which seemed to be pretty effective. 

You couldn't actually read Grillby's expression. But a giant ball of fire in a wooden courtroom seemed intimidating enough as-is.

Sans’ blank sockets bore into him, an expression made all the more terrifying by the knowledge of what he could actually do. 

What surprised you the most, though, was that Papyrus’s looked _furious_ ; you had never seen that look on his face prior to now in any timeline, and were quite content that it was not pointed in your direction. His sockets flickered with a soft glow, but he alternated between glaring at the father, and glancing sympathetically back at Frisk. You didn't know how his expression could alternate back and forth so quickly.

Frisk remained expressionless, talking in a calm, steady voice, and you would hardly be able to tell they were upset at all if it weren’t for the trembling of their fingertips or the way their inhales sharply pierced their speech or the waves of yellow that radiated within their consciousness.

“Why did you climb mount Ebott?”

Frisk paused, glanced over to the emotional support bench for support, and Papyrus glowed in response.

“I wanted to disappear.” 

“What did you think disappearing entailed?” 

_“Do you honestly have to ask that you dipshit”_ you hissed.

Frisk clenched their fists. “I didn’t really care– it didn’t really matter. I just– … I couldn’t go home again.” 

“Why couldn’t you?” 

Frisks nails dug into their palms so hard they started to bleed. You wanted to smash the gavel into the lawyer’s eyesocket. Alia looked like she genuinely consider doing the same if her career wasn't on the line.

You butted in, answering for them. “I’ve already answered that question. He hurt me. Can I go now?” 

“Just a few more questions.” 

They ground their teeth. They were asked. They answered. 

Alia took over the second she could, and Frisk was given permission to leave.

Chara helped steer their legs in the direction of the monster family, where Toriel scooped them up into her arms and carried them out. Frisk started to sob the moment they were out of the room, and clung to her as if she was their only lifeline. You could deal. You would probably still like their hugs too, had they not all repeatedly burned you. If it felt like pins relentlessly piercing your skin now, so be it. They needed her.

Toriel had to stay behind to answer further legal questions, but the rest of the monsters joined them home.

Frisk spent the ride back in silence, and upon arriving, sat down in a ball on the floor in front of the sofa. They felt absolutely awful– they hadn’t wanted to be that emotional around the other monsters– that _weak_. They all had thought that they were strong and determined, and Frisk was sure that they’d shattered that illusion. Instead, they found themselves in a cloud of support.

Papyrus picked them up and spun them into a hug. 

“FRISK! THAT WAS VERY BRAVE OF YOU,”  
“What?” They thought.

_”It was.”_

“You are such a strong human– I do not know what you need in terms of support at the moment, but WE SHALL PROVIDE IT!” Frisk turned to the others, puzzled.

“Yeah.. kid.. that took guts. M’ proud of you.” Undyne said, ruffling their hair.

“Y-yeah…” Alphys added.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you darling– but you made it out. If there is anything you need, do ask.”

“You’re the coolest kid I know!” MK added.

You could tell that Sans wanted to say something, but angry blue magic still periodically flared around his hands, and his pupils continued to flicker, so he opted to just nod in their direction. You could understand the sentiment. 

With the flow of support coming in, Frisk once again burst into tears, covering their face.

“AHH! NYEH.. DO YOU WISH FOR ME TO PUT YOU DOWN?” Papyrus glanced around nervously.

“no! no... I just.. “ Frisk sniffled. “thank you.” How on earth they found the crushing group hug that ensued enjoyable you would never know; but they did, and felt marginally better. 

After Grillby brought out hot chocolate for everyone, everyone piled around the small sofa. Frisk opted to watch the same rendition of Snow White that you’d seen as a kid. 

Eventually, the guests trickled out, all wishing them the best and telling them to call if they ever needed to.

_____

Frisk again asked to sleep in Papyrus’s bed, and the skeleton had obliged. Despite this, they were restless for a good portion of the night, often waking up in a panic before noticing the bones cocooning them, and the comforting orange glow he emitted. 

_____

Sans didn’t sleep. 

Due to the tense monster/human relations and the publicity around the case, he couldn’t officially give Frisk’s father a **bad time**. If the security cameras in the prison happened to flicker for a few minutes just past midnight, and the other prisoners knew what their father was charged with from the second he arrived the next morning, it was just a coincidence.

Just after 3am, he finally relaxed, sitting on the bed across from his brother and Frisk. Papyrus’s arm rested protectively over the smaller human.  
_____

The next morning, Frisk had tried to convince the adults that they were okay, but when Toriel insisted they stay home for a few days, they accepted the break, and agreed to take a couple of days off to recover. 

They slumped onto the couch, curled up in a blanket as Toriel brought them tea and toast before leaving.

They spent the majority of the first two days lounging around the house, occasionally accompanying one of the skeletons on errands.

When they woke up from nightmares, it usually took more than a voice in their own head to calm them down– but Papyrus seemed abnormally adept at handling their stress, and calming them down after triggers.

When they froze when a man in the supermarket looked and sounded too similar, he wordlessly picked them up and carried on, asking for their input on what different soups contained or what types of dishes one could make with different pastas.

One afternoon, Papyrus burst into the house clutching what appeared to be several bags of art supplies.

“FRISK!” they winced slightly at the noise.

_Eyyy finally you agree!_

“Oh..” he marginally lowered his volume before speaking again. “Frisk! I found an online blog that advised that making a glitter jar can be beneficial for stress! Would you like to make one?”

… A _glitter jar_?

Frisk, wanting something to do, agreed, and so the jar making began.

_____  
After about an hour, the project was done, with Papyrus having made one of gold, orange, and red glitters, and Frisk having made one of blue, pink, and silver with larger gold stars. 

Testingly, they shook it, and the particles glittered swirled slowly in the sunlight.

Okay, you had to admit, it was pretty.

They shook it again and smiled, happy with their creation.

Unfortunately, Papyrus shook his a bit too vigorously, and would up drenching himself in the solution as it spilled over him.

“AHHH! What will I do?? I will now be forever sparkled!.”

Frisk laughed. “Maybe you could make a pink one for Mettaton and then both be glitter buddies.”

You weren’t sure how you could tell if a skeleton blushed, even less so if they were drenched in art supplies, but you were pretty sure he did. 

“I AM FAIRLY CERTAIN HIS BODY IS MEANT TO AVOID MOST LIQUIDS.” 

“Or you could just cover him in the glitter.” You added

“… I FEEL AS THOUGH THAT WOULD NOT BE A JOKE SO MUCH AS A FREE MAKEOVER.”

“You’re probably right” they giggled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER DID NOT WANT TO BE WRITTEN. OH GEEZ. Sorry if it seems kind of choppy. I wanted to convey the emotion without actually going into the specific details in the court scene, so hopefully that worked.
> 
> If you want to make a glitter jar, check out these two: [Instructions](http://www.instructables.com/id/DIY-Calming-Glitter-Jars/) or [video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bJIYMl_XV00)
> 
> The socioemotional eye-glowing comes from Zarla's Handplates comic.
> 
> **note: I'm pretty sure there are a lot of cases where this is no longer the case (thank god) but like, it was and is common enough for there to be a biker gang that goes with kids so they can have scary friends at the front to protect them & provide support. That's kind of what I based that section on (http://iwastesomuchtime.com/on/?i=84207)

**Author's Note:**

> Credit for angsty Chara goes to... literally every other author who has written angsty Chara. Especially Draikinator. Sans and Papyrus's background will come into play a bit later– and it's heavily influenced by Keelynoelle's "My Fault" fic, and the Zarla's Handplates comic.
> 
> Comments and kudos give me life so feel free to give some feedback on how you think the story is going!
> 
> ****Also if anyone wants to be my beta that would be fab; message me.****


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